


Hunting Little Wolves

by 00N7



Series: Bird Who Cried Wolf [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00N7/pseuds/00N7
Summary: Drabble for Nichu, who wanted a shapeshifting Garrett Hawke and Fenris on the run. Part of an AU where Garrett has a twin sister.Garrett and Fenris are confronted by hunters hired to track and kill feral wolves.





	Hunting Little Wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nichu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nichu/gifts).



"You'll just be hunting some harmless, little wolves. You can handle that, can't you, Rohan?" The noble turned mercenary grinned a wide, gold spotted grin and dropped the pouch of coins into the hired gun's extended hand.

"Hmph. If they're so harmless why aren't you going after them?" Rohan asked.

"If you don't want the job I can jus-"

"No, I never said I wouldn't do it." He closed his fist around the pouch, and tucked it out of reach. The Noble merc's grin widened.

"Tracked 'em through the woods. All you gotta do is put them down like the rabid animals they are. Marked it on the map, just in case you get...lost."

"I don't need your map." Rohan waved a hand towards his two most trusted men and turned on his heel, "We'll be back before sundown with the hides of your little wolves lining my pack, just you see."

"Good luck." The noble called out, looking amused, "You're going to need it."

"Fuck you, Silverwake." Rohan replied, and flipped him off as he and his men disappeared beyond the tree line. It was the last time they would be seen alive.

It was well after sundown by the time Rohan and his men even found a trace of their target, a line of paw prints left in the snow that zagged through the winding forest. They were lucky to pick up the trail, as the snow had begun to fall and the prints would soon be lost under a new layer of glistening white.

"He said there were two..." One of his men said, and Rohan hissed at him to keep quiet. There was a rustling in the bushes, and one could never be too careful in woods filled with shadows and many untimely deaths.

"Where is the other?" Rohan's other man asked, his voice dropped to a whisper as the men slunk through the thick snow. But Rohan didn't have an answer. They would follow the trail, and perhaps the answer would lay at the end.

But they didn't find the answer at the end of the trail. Only a clearing, where the moon shown through the leafless tree limbs and made the snow glow an ethereal blue. Standing in the middle of the clearing stood a lone wolf, as black as the night sky.  
It turned its head towards Rohan and his men, and snarled. Its teeth were sharp and stained black, and Rohan was left to wonder what exactly that wolf had killed to color its teeth so dark.

He heard the subtle scraping of unsheathing swords behind him, and Rohan put his hand on the bow slung over his shoulder. One wolf, three men. This would be easy.

Rohan pulled an arrow from his quiver and lined up the shot as the wolf slowly circled around to face them. It growled low and angrily, barring its darkened teeth and digging its claws into the snow covered ground. It crunched, as though the fresh snow had already frozen beneath the wolf's paws.

"Keep an eye out for its mate." Rohan hissed to his men, who flanked as he aimed the tip of his arrow towards the wolf's eye. And as he pulled back the arrow, and the string groaned from the cold and the tension, Rohan saw a shape shift in the shadows of the surrounding trees.

He quickly moved his aim towards the moving shape, expecting to see the wolf's mate. Instead, a cloaked figure glided out from the woods. Rohan moved his aim back to the wolf, but kept his eye on the figure.  
"Halt, stranger! There is danger here!" He called to the newcomer. But they didn't falter, and approached the snarling wolf with confidence and ease.

"Ser! Back away, the wolf...!" But Rohan's voice faltered when the stranger reached the wolf, and knelt by its side like an old friend. The hooded figure turned its shadowed face towards Rohan. and tilted his head up until the moon revealed a wicked grin.  
"You have it wrong." The stranger drawled, his voice deep and eerily calm, "...I am the wolf."

The wolf by the stranger's side let out a howl, and the birds sleeping in the twisted limbs high above awoke with startled cries and flew into the moonlit night. Rohan's hands started to shake, and he let the arrow fly. It pierced the snow covered dirt, missing both the wolf and stranger by several feet.

And the wolf lunged, closing the gap between them within seconds. Rohan felt fire ripping through his gut and he heard the clash of steel as his men clumsily tried to defend themselves. But blood splattered the forest floor as the wolf tore through flesh and bone, and its companion fought back Rohan's men with surprisingly power and finesse.

Rohan sputtered spit and blood, and his body grew numb and very, very cold. Stained teeth gnashed and bite and tore into his muscle as though he were simply made of cotton. A hand stretched out for a dagger, but bloodied fingers only brushed the cold steel before they went still.

The wolf stumbled back, muzzle soaked in blood and strands of skin and sinew twisted through its sharpened teeth. The hooded man wiped his sword against his cloak, cleaning it of the blood.

Rohan and his men lay in a lake of blood and ice, as snowflakes gently fell upon them and speckled their lifeless bodies. Soon, they would be buried. And it would be a long time before the winter would melt and their decaying bodies would be discovered.

Even so, it was no longer safe for them in these woods.

"We can't stay here. People will come fo-"

The sound of retching tore the man's gaze from Rohan's body, and he turned towards his companion; a wolf no more.

"Garrett..." He sighed, and approached the mage carefully. He knelt down, and placed a hand on his back, "...you must stop ingesting the flesh. Your body can't handle it."

Once his stomach settled, Garrett flopped over in the snow and let the cold soothe his fever. It would take time before he could shift again.

"Sorry, Fen." He mumbled, reaching up to cup his mate's face, "I just get so...hungry."

Garrett lowered the elf's hood in time to see the roll of his eyes. This made the mage smile, just barely.

"I'm serious." He snapped back, "It isn't healthy. We can't risk you getting sick from it...well..."

He quirked an eyebrow and glanced away, "...more sick."

"You know I don't mean to."

"I know." He sighed, "Come on, we need to get out of here. Only a matter of time before someone comes looking for them."

Fenris took hold of Garrett's arm and pulled it over his shoulder, and helped the weakened mage to his feet.

"Where should we go?" He grumbled in reply, as they began to trek through the snow back into the safety of the shadowed woods.

"A place where we won't be hunted."

"There aren't many places like that, Fen."

The elf sighed deeply, "I know. But we have to try."


End file.
